Antiphon
by tinmiss1939
Summary: "...two independent voices in interaction, singing alternate musical phrases." Two people, Synesthete and Transducer, and the dialogues that build their relationship in a dangerous world.
1. Verse and Chorus

**Disclaimer: **Alphas and all characters and concepts are property of its creators and the SyFy channel. No profits are being made from this derivative work.

AN: Added a whole other half to this chapter. The idea popped up and demanded to be included, but it needs to be in this chapter to keep the structure consistent.

* * *

><p>I. Verse<p>

The package is placed in front of her without ceremony, and Gary is pacing her office seconds later and looking at anything but her or the gift. He has wrapped it so precisely she can't tell where the tape is. The paper is a simple pale green, and there is no ribbon or gift tag.

"G-Gary? Is this for me?"

"Yes. You should open it. Open it."

Her eyebrows raise—even though he can't interpret it—and she eases open the paper—even though he's not looking. Gary has apparently picked up origami somewhere because there is no tape, just a series of folds and tucks that hold the wrapping paper tightly to the box. Inside she finds a gold cuff bracelet embedded with three strange charms, paired with a remote car starter.

"I don't—" she begins, but Gary cuts her off quickly.

"Smell—" he points to a half-globe studded with tiny holes. "Sight—" a small glass cube. "And touch," a silver cylinder. There is a hinge on one side and a bulky clasp on the other. A tiny switch is tucked up next to the clasp.

She looks up at Gary. He's got that adorable half smile on his face and he looks so proud, even though she has no clue what he is proud of.

"So we can reach you, when you're analyzing in the field. Hicks told Nina it's important to be able to reach us, and we couldn't tell you when you were in his apartment because you weren't listening. Now we can reach you, and then we can keep you safe." He actually meets her gaze as he adds, "You should be safe." His eyes slip away again, and he's flicking through signals like it never happened. She picks up the remote. He has crossed out the lock and unlock buttons with magic marker, leaving only the "panic" button. Smell, sight, and touch, so he can reach her. Oh. Oh, _Gary_.

"How does it work?"

"You put it on and when something happens, we press the button. Go ahead."

She clasps the bracelet around her wrist. As jewelry goes it isn't art, but there is a quirky charm to the look of it. On Nina it would look clunky, out of place. To Rachel, however, the slight weight is already comforting, like one her mother's old pieces.

"Go ahead," Gary waves at her, as impatient as ever.

She presses the button once, and her senses are assaulted with blue light, vibration, and Mexican vanilla, all from her wrist. She presses the button again quickly, and the light and vibration stop. The scent of vanilla, however, lingers.

"You can turn it off, if you need to. Dr. Rosen turns off his cell phone, sometimes. He says that there are boundaries and privacy is important." That last bit sounds like he's repeating something he's been told many times, but Rachel appreciates the effort he has made to remember. The work he has put into this little alarm system is stunning. _For you_, a little voice whispers before she can squash is. _He made this just for you_.

"Gary, this is…" brilliant, clever, shockingly thoughtful. Trying to keep her composure, she settles. "This is good, Gary." She smiles extra big, just for him. "This is really good. Thank you."

He must have caught some of what she means, because his grin is incandescent.

* * *

><p>II. Chorus<p>

Gary is ready to go at 6:00 pm, but they don't actually leave until 6:07 because Nina offers to give Hicks a ride, too. Once he's buckled into the backseat of this week's car—a red Camaro he really wants to drive, even more than the silver convertible last week—Nina begins asking questions. "So, Gary, did she like it?"

"Yes," Gary answers. He's certain. Her smile was clear, she thanked him, and she wore the bracelet the rest of the day.

"Did who like what?" asks Hicks from the shotgun seat. Nina whispers something he can't quite hear and then they're smiling at each other whispering in that weird way they always do. Gary looks out the windows; he's seen them like that before and once was enough.

"Good, Gary. That was a really good idea." Nina's talking to him again. "Very thoughtful of you."

He hums a noncommittal response and fiddles with his wristband. He doesn't know why Nina was so willing to help him with his project. She wants Rachel to be safe, too, he guesses. Nina likes to look after everyone.

"Did she say 'thank you'?"

He remembers that very clearly, making him smile as he tells her so.

"Did you say 'you're welcome'?"

That one he didn't remember.

"It's okay. You'll get it next time. You did put the replacement vanilla extract into your mom's cabinet, right?"

"Yes! She uses it to bake cookies, and she bakes every Saturday, so she would miss it if I didn't, so I did."

"Good." Nina pauses, and then tilts her head so he knows that she is serious. "You know, Gary, if you every need help with something like this, just come to me first. Bill doesn't always get this kind of thing."

"I don't understand. I fixed it. Why would I need help again?" He wasn't likely to need any more remote car starters or cell phone parts. Rachel was very careful and didn't break things like Bill and Hicks.

"I mean—if you ever want to do something nice for Rachel. I can help with that. Cameron will help, too. Right?"

Hicks starts at being included but answers. "Yeah. Anything you need, kid."

"I'm not a kid." That comes out automatically, even though he doesn't mind as much when Hicks call him that. "And thank you for the offer," he adds. Nina likes it when he remembers to say that.

He glances up at the front seat. They're looking at each other again. Nina is not using very safe driving practices; they should let him drive it they're going to stare like that. He hopes he can get make it to his house before Nina crashes the car.

Tomorrow, he's making sure Dr. Rosen takes him home.


	2. Question and Answer

I. Question

She would hear him. She heard everything, when she was listening, and she always listened to him. Always when it mattered, and it mattered now. It mattered a lot if she was listening, because he was handcuffed and locked in a closet. Being taken from his front yard and shoved into a van had been bad, but now he was scared because these people _knew exactly what he was_. They had lined the walls, floor, and ceiling with copper mesh, making a Faraday cage so he couldn't see. He was now sitting in the middle of the floor, as far from the walls as possible. Picking at the seams had been futile and he couldn't stand touching the mesh. It felt wrong. The metallic tang in the air tasted wrong and the handcuffs hurt and there was nothing he could do, except wait for Rachel to hear him.

"Rachel," he whispered, "Rachel, I'm here."

So, he waited. The scuffling outside the door was a moment of hope, but then he could make out the words.

"You didn't gag him? That girl could hear him!"

Lock turning, then light and color and _the lights_were back. Bill's cell phone signal, not too far away. One chance. Jump forward at the men, turn 80 degrees south by the GPS satellites—

"RACHEL!"

Then he was lost in the dark.

* * *

><p>II. Answer<p>

Bill asked her to stay in the car. Rachel refused and for once he didn't patronize her or argue at all; he simply handed her a radio—Gary's radio, the one he was so proud of holding on their missions—and told her to wait for his signal. Hicks gave her a sympathetic look she didn't quite understand, and then they were gone.

Bill and Hicks took care of the men on guard, storming in like she hadn't seen before and, frankly, she was glad. Bill's incandescent fury and Cameron's cold focus reassured her, so for the first time in her life the sounds of gunfire didn't frighten her. She knew Bill and Hicks would take care of it. Instead of trying to follow the fight, she focused on Gary's heartbeat. It was so slow and steady compared to her own. Why? He should be afraid but it sounded more like he was asleep, drugged, or unconscious. The static of the radio startled her briefly, but then she was striding inside, following every beat to a locked door at the back of the house.

Once she rebalanced her senses, she was relieved to see that the hole they had stuffed him in was clean, though the metal on the walls was unnerving. Gary was just coming around again, shifting with a soft moan, as she eased the gag off him. Bruises blossomed on his face and she couldn't help running a hand through his hair and lightly touching his cheek to confirm he was there. Then she pulled back. He was sensitive about touching sometimes. She glanced back at a tense and quiet Hicks, who was watching from the corner while Bill checked the rest of the house. Hicks pulled out his cell to call Dr. Rosen.

Seeing the bruises on his face, she now fully understood what she'd heard in the car. The memory of those sounds made her nauseous all over again. Gary's shout—so _loud_compared to his desperate whispers—then the smack of a fist and the click of his jaw snapping shut. The dull thud that had come next had stolen her breath until she realized he was still breathing and his heart was still beating.

Now she could see Gary as well as hear him, see that he was alive and mostly okay, but it wasn't enough. Her hands itched with the desire to touch him again. She took one last liberty, stroking his hand briefly as he blinked his eyes.

"Gary, are you okay? What hurts?"

"Soft," he murmured. "Soft doesn't hurt." The hand cuffs clinked as he pushed himself up. "My mouth and my head hurt. One of them hit me, the big one. Don't let him get away."

"Okay," she said, looking sideways at the bodies down the hall. Bill was putting zip ties on the wrists of some, and some he wasn't. "Um…The paramedics are on the way, a-and so is Dr. Rosen." The relief and anxiety were finally rebounding on her, her own adrenaline crash. Her head felt light and her stammer was back. In the next few seconds she would probably burst into tears. "Do you need water, or something? I'll—I'll go get some." She turned to go, but he reached out and caught her hand. He was shaking.

"No. Stay." The trembling in his hand reminded her that she needed to be strong now. Somehow, the warmth of his hand reminded her that she could.

"Okay," she said. "I can stay. I'll stay." She coaxed him forward out into the room and away from the horrid box. She pulled him to sit on the floor with her. He still held her hands tightly. "I'll stay."


	3. Challenge, Password, Countersign

AN: Thanks for all the great responses. I'm pleased this is working for so many people. To be honest, the characterization in the show is going a little different from what I expected; I'm getting slightly Jossed on some of my ideas as more episodes air. I'm going to keep up with this for a while, though. I think these two could have a really interesting dynamic between them and I still have a little more I want to explore.

3. Challenge, Password, Countersign

_"... well-known sign-countersign is that used by the Allied forces on D-Day: the challenge was 'Flash;' the password, 'Thunder;' and the countersign (to challenge the person giving the first code word) was 'Welcome.'"_

* * *

><p>The scent of rubbing alcohol drifted down the hallway and into Rachel's office, strong enough to identify without her abilities. The undercurrents of coffee and rice were more subtle and were ultimately what drew her out. Rachel followed the scents and was surprised that they lead to Gary's tiny office. His desk was covered in paper towels, bottles, and tools while he studied a partially dissected cellphone. He was so absorbed in whatever he was doing with the phone he didn't notice her at all, so she watched him from the doorway.<p>

Everyone had been a little more protective of each other after the kidnapping incident. They still didn't know who had taken Gary, leaving the whole team on edge. Bill and Hicks tracked down leads, constantly in and out of the office. Sometimes they took Nina but they almost never brought the two youngest Alphas along; Gary was practically on house arrest and the older members all prefered that Rachel examine evidence back at the office until things were "more secure," whatever that meant. Meanwhile, Dr. Rosen spent hours on the phone with Agent Sullivan and her contacts. He also spent a lot of time with Gary. To everyone's surprise, Gary was taking it all well. Whenever she had tried to talk to him, he just replied, "I knew you all would find me." Rachel shook her head. In many ways, he was stronger than they gave him credit for.

"Gary, what are you up to?"

"Hicks spilled coffee on his phone and then tried to rinse it off in the sink. He needed help cleaning it."

Rachel smiled. "That's nice of you."

"Friends help each other," he said, squinting at the battery. "Hicks is my friend."

Rachel eased into the office to get a better look. "Did he tell you that?" It sounded suspiciously like something Bill had told her last week when trying to steal her grapes at lunch.

"No, I told him that, after he knocked over the coffee." He paused to flick through some signals. "I said I could help him."

She watched him work for a moment. The Q-tips, paint brushes, and screwdrivers were arranged neatly. His method, however, wasn't particularly organized; he'd take long pauses to flick through his frequencies, looking back and forth.

"So, what are you looking at?"

"User manuals, patents." He picked up a tiny screwdriver. "YouTube."

"YouTube?" A dangerous thought entered her mind. She felt bad, but she had to ask. "You have done this before, right?"

"No, but it's okay because Hicks doesn't know that." Horrified, she was about the snatch the tool out of his hand when he angled towards her with a grin. "That was a joke. I was joking and you fell for it. Ha."

She giggled, mostly with relief.

"I did this for my mom a few months ago. She spilled tea, not coffee, but it's same problem—water, acids, sugars." He dropped the battery into the jar of rice.

"Can I help?" She leaned over to look at the tiny keyboard he was working on. "And maybe you can teach me?"

He glanced over his shoulder at her, eyebrows drawn a little in surprise. "Yeah, I-I could teach you." He pointed to a little microchip he'd set off to the side. "That's the SIM card. It stores all the contact information, so it's really important. Check it for any stains."

Rachel dragged in a chair from the hallway and settled in next to Gary. She looked at the chip for a moment. "It's clean, I think. There's still a little water in this groove here."

"That's okay. It's not in the gold part, right?" She nodded. "Put it in that jar there, with the rice."

"Where did all this come from?"

"Bill is getting paranoid. He should talk to Dr. Rosen about that."

Looking at the rice, Rachel had an idea. "I'll be right back."

A short walk down the hall brought her to Nina's office. The pusher was removing her bright red nail polish and had bottles of pink varnish lined up on her desk. Rachel knocked softly on the door. "Hey, Nina. Do you have any new purses or shoes?"

Nina smiled. "I've got some great Louboutins," she said and leaned forward like a cat about to pounce. "I know you don't like the stilettos, but if you wear them around office for a few hours—"

"Thank you, but that's not quite what I had in mind."

Rachel's rambling explanation took far longer than it should have and Nina was skeptical at first—"Can't I just buy him a new phone?"—but she gave in eventually with a quip about keeping 'Gary off the streets.' (Rachel thought she was only half joking.) After rummaging through boxes for 5 minutes, Rachel walked away with a handful of silica gel packets and an adorable little YSL purse. Back at Gary's office, she held out her find and said, "I thought these might help?"

"Yeah," he said, eyebrows raised. He took the silica from her and poked through the little pile. "Where did you get these?"

"Nina went shopping yesterday. Stores pack them with purses and shoes to absorb moisture and that's what you're using the dry rice for, right? These should work, too."

"Huh." Gary smiled a little. "That's good. That's really smart, Rachel."

They spent the next half hour examining all the parts of the device—logic board, speaker, microphone, and too many tiny screws for Rachel to count (Gary counted 47). It was a different challenge for her. While Gary dismantled the phone, she looked and felt for residue on the delicate circuits and gently cleaned it away. They would occasionally switch tasks and check each other. She pried out the camera with her fingernails; he went over the microphone with tiny dabs of rubbing alcohol. The coffee hadn't gotten too far into the case and Gary had taken the battery out quickly. With luck, the phone would be fine.

Gary was putting the keyboard into another jar of rice when Rachel noticed something on the back. She grabbed his wrist and gently pinned it down on the desk. Keeping her eyes on the plastic, she said, "Sugar grains. There. Brush, please?" She vaguely felt him place the paintbrush in her outstretched palm. Rachel slid her hand up to cradle Gary's hand in hers as he held onto the keyboard—she didn't want to risk jostling the sugar deeper into the piece. She touched the dry bristles to the sugar, picking up the six grains that had hidden in a crevice.

As her other senses returned to her, she noticed his pulse in his wrist; it was a little quick, actually. She then realized they were sitting much closer than she remembered and every muscle of Gary's body was frozen stiff. She looked up at his face, which was a little more blank and a little more pink than usual.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I wasn't thinking—"

"No. It's—it's okay. I was just surprised. It's okay." He glanced at her briefly before looking back the desk. "Really. I didn't mind."

"Oh. Alright." Her face felt a little hot.

They finished quickly, tucking plastic, glass, and metal into Ziploc bags with silica packets and rice to wick away any remaining water overnight. Gary would reassemble it all in the morning. Finally, Gary had one more surprise.

"Thank you for the help, Rachel."

"You're welcome," she said as she tucked her hair behind her ear. "It was kind of fun."

Dr. Rosen knocked on the doorframe before he could reply. "Ready, Gary?"

"Yes, Dr. Rosen. Bye, Rachel."

Dr. Rosen gave her a smile and a brief nod before leaving Rachel alone in the transducer's office. She sat in her chair for a minute, twisting the bracelet Gary had given her. The memory of warm fingers resting in her palm distracted her thoroughly until Nina appeared.

"You ready to head home, Rach?"

She flexed her hand to shake off the feeling. "Yes," she said, taking a deep breath. "Let's go."


	4. Dialectic: Disagreement

I. Premise

Staring at the open plan of the fifth floor data center, Gary ran Bill's instructions through his head one more time.

_"Hicks and Nina are downstairs with the guards. I'll be in the seventh floor lab. You two just get what you need from the system administrator's desktop and get downstairs by midnight."_

Simple, except that the sysadmin's office was all big windows and a very locked door surrounded by racks and racks of servers. The office door had a keypad lock, so Rachel would need to do a visual scan. While she squinted at the lock, Gary looked around the server room to make sure everything was okay. It was just the two of them and she wouldn't be paying any attention right now, so he had to pay attention.

It was always a strange reversal for him, physically watching out for his team with his real eyes instead of watching the frequencies and signals. There were so many gaps in the security camera coverage here, though, that he had to do it. Bill and Hicks had taught him how, just in case things like this happened. Look for people moving in groups, wearing the same clothes or sunglasses, black SUVs—though not a lot of that applied on the fifth floor of an office building.

"Got it. Kind of. 1-2-3-4-5, but I'm not sure of the order." He heard Rachel straighten up with a huff that sounded unhappy. "Beyond the obvious." She pressed some buttons and the long, high-pitched tone told Gary that it wasn't right.

He turned his head over his shoulder slightly to get another look at the keypad. It was pretty standard looking, like the kind he'd seen in hospitals. "Most of the time you get three attempts before it locks you out. Sometimes they call security automatically, but most of the time they don't." He turned back to the room, which was still dead quiet.

"I don't know if I want to chance that here, Gary."

"Try the odd numbers first, then the even numbers. If it's not that it's probably evens, then odds."

There was another series of beeps and the door clicked open.

Gary smiled. "Gotcha."

* * *

><p>II. Hypothesis<p>

Rachel eased the door shut behind them. The whir and click of the lock was loud now that the hum of the servers was shut out. Inside the fishbowl of an office, Rachel let herself take a deep breath and released it slowly. They weren't that much safer, but at least they could talk normally while they did what they came to do. She fished around in her purse for the USB drive while Gary logged into the desktop with passwords the DoD had stolen. She didn't want to think about where or how.

"Do you have the flash drive, Rachel? Agent Sullivan gave it to you. She trusted you. I don't think she trusts me yet, which is weird because I am very trustworthy."

Her purse wasn't that big—why had she crammed so many things into it? After feeling past a book of matches and some peppermints, her fingers closed around the memory stick. "You are trustworthy, Gary, and—" she pulled out the drive to wave it at him, "—I have it right here."

"Yeah, I am trustworthy," he said, turning to look out the windows. "And you are, too,"

Rachel plugged the drive into the desktop. A little download bar appeared and started a slow crawl across the screen. "Do you trust Agent Sullivan?"

"Yeah. I—Why?" Gary angled back towards her slightly. "Don't you?"

Rachel thought about the agent—her stylish-yet-practical pant-suits, her stacks of folders, the gun she never seemed to pull out, even when unknown gunmen were bearing down on the office. "I'm not sure."

"You like her. You didn't like Don Wilson." Gary side-stepped towards her. His eyebrows furrowed as he considered it.

"I didn't not-like Don Wilson, either—"

"No," he interrupted. "No, you didn't like him. You always frowned a lot and you frown when you're unhappy."

Caught. "Okay, so I didn't really like Agent Wilson." She thought back to her earlier days with Dr. Rosen, long before Cameron had shown up. There had been less spy work then and more therapy sessions with scared and confused Alphas that they found on their own. She had spent most of her time testing their abilities with Dr. Rosen. How many shades of blue could the art restorationist differentiate? (More than Rachel). How far across a room could the Brooklyn cop detect which one of them was lying? (Dr. Rosen at twenty feet). Don Wilson didn't ask them to do things often. About once a month he'd give them a specific name to investigate. Sometimes they got less information than that. Her favorite had been when Wilson had called with "Fake psychic in Cleaves Mills, Maine. Figure it out." He'd been a nice guy with a bit of a limp. Rachel still wasn't sure what his ability was.

Now, with Agent Sullivan, their missions felt different. For one, she saw a lot more of Nathan Clay than she ever wanted. Their orders were strangely specific, but she rarely understood what exactly they were doing. Dr. Rosen acted like he did, so it was probably okay, but other times even Bill looked a little uncertain. That was usually when Nina would drag Dr. Rosen off and they would discuss things—and boy, could Nina 'discuss' loudly.

The chirp from the computer brought her out of her reveries. Gary was watching her out of the corner of his eyes. Nervous adrenaline spiked through her bloodstream—daydreaming on the job. She had to keep it together. "I don't know. It was different with Don Wilson." She ripped the memory stick out and shoved it in her purse. "It felt safer, somehow."

Gary turned away and looked out the window. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. "Well, if you don't trust her, why are you here? Why are you doing this?" Gary's flat tone made it almost impossible to tell if he was concerned or just curious.

"She said it would help us find out who kidnapped you, Gary. I want to know who it was." _So they can never hurt you—or any of us—again_.

* * *

><p>III. Counterargument<p>

The stupid kidnapping! He was fine and his mother made him promise to never take out the trash again. He had done everything right; Bill had even _told_ him he'd done everything right. It wasn't a problem. He was gearing himself up to tell Rachel that it was fine, he was fine, _he was a government agent_—when she grabbed his arm and pulled him down to the ground.

Rachel pushed the radio headset closer to her ear. "Hicks says security knows something is wrong and called for back-up. They're searching floor by floor. We can't stay here long."

He peeked over the window sill at the room. It was silent and still, so he opened a violet and blue wavelength to look at the nearby stairwells—also quiet and still. "Mmm. That's a bad strategy. They should come to the server floor first, or the labs. Those are the most vulnerable places."

Rachel gasped behind him. "Gary! Don't say things like that."

"They can't hear like you can," he said with a laugh. "You don't have to worry."

He saw her rolling her eyes, so he must have said something wrong. Before she could say anything else, red static flashed through the colored frequencies. "Ahh!" Gary winced and pulled his hand back. "Thunderstorm. One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand—" A crash of thunder interrupted his count.

"How did you know?"

"Lightning strikes let off electromagnetic waves." The lights went out. The blinking LEDs on the servers, the recessed track lighting on the floors, even the ambient light from the street outside—all dark. "Huh."

The sound of rain on exterior windows filled the room—quiet at first, but quickly intensifying to a full storm. Rachel grabbed his jacket sleeve and squeezed tightly.

"What—Rachel?"

"I think I saw a movie like this once."

"I'm not allowed to watch those kinds of movies. Maybe you shouldn't watch them, either." He glanced back at her. "Yeah, you definitely shouldn't watch those movies, Rachel."

Rachel sighed loudly, in that exaggerated way she did just for him so he'd know she was annoyed. He smiled a little, because she wasn't squeezing his shoulder quite so hard. "We should go," he whispered, "But I can't see anything."

She patted her hand down his arm and grabbed his hand. "Okay. Follow me."

She tugged him forward, but he held his ground while he tried to organize what to he wanted to say. It finally just came tumbling out of his mouth, like these things always did. "I feel safe with you. I want you to feel safe with me, too."

He felt her turn back and place her free hand on his shoulder. "I do feel safe with you, Gary." She paused for a moment. "We're-we're not like Bill and Cameron, but we take care of each other. We're the ones who watch out for them, when they can't see for themselves. What I said before—I just felt like Agent Wilson watched out for all of us, especially Dr. Rosen."

That made sense, somehow. "You don't think she's strong enough."

"I don't know her well enough to know that yet. It scares me." Her hand left his shoulder and there was a soft, familiar sound as she pushed her hair behind her ear. "You ready?"

"Yeah. Okay. Let's go."

* * *

><p>Continued in Dialectic: Resolution. Preview!<p>

_"I'm going to turn up my vision, Gary. If something happens and I'm not reacting, shine your cell phone at me or something." Rachel focused on her eyes, squinting to see something, anything. Everything else dulled—the sounds of the rain outside, Gary's hand in hers. She looked and looked and—still there was almost nothing. She could only make out vague shadows, not even enough to navigate by. _

_"This—this isn't going to work. I can't see..."_


	5. Dialectic: Resolution

AN: Thanks again for all the great feedback and alerts, folks. It means a lot. Reviews really are like crack.

* * *

><p><em>"I don't know her well enough to know that yet. It scares me." Her hand left his shoulder and there was a soft, familiar sound as she pushed her hair behind her ear. "You ready?"<em>

_"Yeah. Okay. Let's go."_

* * *

><p>I. Inference<p>

"I'm going to turn up my vision, Gary. If something happens and I'm not reacting, shine your cell phone at me or something." Rachel focused on her eyes, squinting to see something, anything. Everything else dulled—the sounds of the rain outside, Gary's hand in hers. She looked and looked and—still there was almost nothing. She could only make out vague shadows, not even enough to navigate by.

"This—this isn't going to work. I can't see. We'll just run into those computer tower things the whole time." As her other senses returned, she shifted closer to Gary. They were still crouched outside the IT office. Feeling his hooded sweatshirt against her shoulder and the cheap carpet under her fingers grounded her slightly. She could figure this out. She would not panic, because they couldn't afford it.

"Rachel, I can take lead."

"I don't think—"

"No, wait. I have an idea. There's a pattern, a grid. Everything is laid out in aisles. I'll lead, and you listen."

She sighed. Was he so used to people ignoring him? "I am listening to you, Gary, and it's a not a bad idea—"

He chuckled. "Actually, you're not. You're hearing, but you're not comprehending." He squeezed her hand lightly. "I'll lead, but you'll _listen_. For the guards."

"Oh." She really wasn't listening to him, was she? "You mean that I can be the lookout, and you'll lead me through while I can't feel anything?"

"Yes!" He laughed again, a happier sound. "Yes."

Holding hands, they crept through the aisles. Gary trailed his right hand along the server towers, one to another. His left hand pulled Rachel along behind him. She could hear the rain outside, Gary's heartbeat and her own, some very distant footsteps a few floors below them. There was no gunfire or screaming, thankfully. They continued and the rain seemed to grow louder until they finally stopped. Gary whispered her name and she turned her head in his direction.

She heard him speaking as only a loud whisper, so he was making some effort to be quiet. "We're at a wall. I think it's the north wall. Which stairwell? East or west?"

"I don't know. Just pick one?"

He pulled her in one direction, until the sound of light boots on concrete hit her like a wall. "No! No, go the other way. Someone's coming."

They were done creeping around. Gary nearly dislocated her shoulder as he hauled her to her feet and in the other direction. She heard a soft squeak of metal hinges, so he must have opened the stairwell door.

"Anything here?"

There was lots of echoing quiet above and below them. "No."

He pulled her through the doorway, probably by her arm but she was so focused on the closing footfalls she wasn't sure. The door clicked shut behind them, then both froze as the other door slammed open—the stairwell they had been heading for seconds earlier. From the shuffling and heartbeats, Rachel guessed there were three of them milling around. The guards searched for a few long minutes and Rachel hardly could breath.

Up and to her left side there was a very loud whisper. "They have flashlights—"

Bringing back her other senses, she slapped her hand over his mouth. "Shh!" He pushed back, but she pressed closer and pulled his head down to her level. "Quiet! Please, Gary!" Now she could see that a dim red light illuminating his wide, panicked eyes. Before she could do anything else to reassure him, there was a thunk about 10 feet away they both heard without superhearing—steel and glass against carpet? Had one of the guards dropped a flashlight? Gary finally stopped struggling. After some harsh swearing, the nearby footsteps moved away, and then there was a chorus of "All clear!" A door slammed shut and boots pounded up another flight of stairs.

After she released her hold on Gary's mouth and neck, a wave of lightheaded relief swept over Rachel. Dizzy, Rachel leaned against Gary as she tried to catch her breath. He had one hand on her elbow and his arm around her waist, carefully keeping her far as from the stairs as possible. She let herself stay in his arms. If he was holding onto her that tightly he must not mind the contact too much.

"Rachel? Rachel, there's more light here. It's emergency lighting, so it must run on its own batteries." He kept a firm grim on her arms and he stepped back, his eyes falling to their feet. "I don't think we need your hearing as much and I shouldn't lead you down the stairs if you can't see. That's not very safe."

She nudged him forward. "Don't worry about it. If they're moving up, we should be okay to go down."

* * *

><p>II. Conclusion<p>

Gary kept a hand on Rachel's elbow as they hurried down the stairs together. He knew she was seeing fine again, but the way she had stumbled as they'd ran had scared him a little. He just felt better being close to her right now and she hadn't pulled away or yelled at him, so she didn't seem to mind. Rachel never had any problem telling him what she felt, sometimes loudly. Gary liked that about her. He liked that she told him what he was doing wrong, that is—not so much the loudness. He could tolerate loudness from Rachel, because she didn't yell much these days. She'd figured out how to say it quietly so he would understand just the same.

He looked briefly for any frequencies. There were a few distant cell phone signals, but nothing from the building itself. The power must still be down for a large area.

"Anything out there, Gary?"

He kept looking and managed to key into someone's mobile broadband. "The cell towers are working again—their backup batteries must have turned on. It looks like the thunderstorm will clear in an hour or so." They walked into a bright green signal when they reached the fourth floor. "The electrical company's press release says that city power should be back on soon, but the local news stations don't think it will happen."

The stairwell ended at the first floor. This was the northwest stairwell, so it opened directly into the lobby. He had to wait while Rachel listened again, and he hated waiting. He wanted to see what was going on but there was still no power to the—

With a buzz and a hum, electricity flowed through and brought everything back to life. He started opening the first frequencies he saw, sifting through a dozen CCTVs of empty hallways. Finally, there was Bill cleaning up in the lab, three security guards on the floor. Gary smiled. "Bill's okay. He's heading down the other stairwell."

"Something's wrong," Rachel whispered. "There's four people, and two of the heart rates are fast—very fast."

"Relax, Rachel. You can relax. The power's back on. I got this."

"Gary, keep it down. I don't think it's safe out there." He looked briefly at her. She was pressed to the door, listening. "Someone's hurt." She was…worried? She looked worried. "I can smell blood. Gary, we need to know what's happening before we go out there."

He worked faster. Closing his eyes helped, and that it was quiet here. Rachel was very quiet, not even bothering him to work faster like Bill always did. Ironically, this allowed him to search more quickly. He should explain that to Bill sometime—ahh. There was the numbering system for the cameras, how it correlated by floors and rooms. First floor, lobby, and he had it. Five different views were all showing the same very bad scene.

"Oh. They've—they've got Nina and Hicks handcuffed. I think Nina's bleeding." Rachel grabbed his arm at that. She was squeezing so tight it hurt. "Rachel, you're hurting me. Let go." She did, and he went back to watching. Nina was propped against a desk and the guards had guns pointed at Hicks. Another man in a fleece jacket had showed up and it looked like he was asking questions. "Okay, there are two guards and someone new. They're hitting Hicks. He's in trouble. We need to help." He moved towards the door but Rachel pushed him back. "We need to help. They're hurting him." She was surprisingly strong and knew her physics, the way she had braced her feet and leaned into him.

"We have to be smart. We need help but we can't make it worse."

Be smart? He was smart—really smart, Dr. Rosen said he was gifted—and so was she. He flicked back to the cameras in the other stairwell. Bill was almost on the first floor. "Bill's alone now. Break radio silence and tell him what's happening"

"You should really start wearing a radio."

"They're uncomfortable. And distracting. I need to focus to do my work." She wasn't listening anymore, which was okay because she was whispering into her radio piece. They needed to be smart, so they needed a plan. Maybe a distraction? Then Bill could take care of the bad guys.

"Bill says we should stay put. He's calling tactical for backup. They're ten minutes out."

Back on the camera feeds, the guards were walking towards Nina. They pulled her over in front of Cameron and were shaking her. "I don't think we have that much of time."

* * *

><p>III. Synthesis<p>

"Stop! DCIS! We're federal agents."

"Gary! What the hell are you doing?"

"Stop right there! Hands up!"

"Stop! Please! They're just kids!"

Rachel winced at the wall of sound that hit her. Bill had just finished yelling directly in her ear and Rachel totally agreed with him. This was psychotic and stupid and she didn't know why she had let Gary do this. Oh, wait—yes, she did. Bad guys were about to torture her roommate, her best friend, to get information out of another friend they had already beaten black and blue. Also, Gary—sweet, brave, stupid, _stupid_ Gary—was going whether she wanted or not. If she was with him, at least she could push him out of the way when the gunfire started.

It had occurred to her before they opened the door that if anyone could cause a distraction, Gary could. He didn't disappoint, waving his badge around like it mattered. She did her part, babbling and crying, pulling him this way and that. They made a dramatic pair, and she was barely acting at all. The two guards shouted back at them and waved their guns between Hicks and Gary. Blindfolded Nina had chimed in, as well. Hicks and the other guy—mussed up hair, untucked shirt, ridiculously shiny shoes—were the only ones quiet. He appeared to be shell-shocked, with one hand loosely on Nina's upper arm. He was unarmed, thank goodness, and looked like some kind of middle management goon. Cameron, meanwhile, had caught on that something was up and started scanning the room.

"DCIS! This is a sanctioned government operation and you are under arrest. You are all under arrest!"

"Put your hands on your head and get down on the floor!" The guards moved closer to them and further from Cameron and Nina, though the other guy still had his hands on the pusher. Cameron had started fiddling with his handcuffs. Rachel, with one hand on his left arm and another on his waist, tugged Gary in the direction of a large potted plant, closer to potential cover.

"We're DCIS! You put your hands on your head and get down on the floor!"

The management with the bed-head had apparently remembered that he was the boss and had started shouting orders. She couldn't hear what he was saying over Gary and the guards, but it added to the general chaos. Taking advantage, Bill had crept out of his stairwell and hidden behind a trashcan. He made some complex hand signals at Cameron and then his voice sounded directly in her ear. "_Rachel, take cover on three and for the love of God keep Gary's head down."_

The guards suddenly quieted and a voice rang clear across the lobby. "Gary Bell and Rachel Pirzad, if I'm not mistaken. I've been looking for you." She froze. Gary stopped talking.

"_One_."

The guards moved to the side, giving their boss a clear view of the two young Alphas. "You've been leading me on quite a chase." He smirked. "I didn't think you'd show up on my doorstep."

Rachel stole a quick glance at Cameron. His hands were still behind his back but they were free and he had tucked his toes under to be ready to jump. Rachel dug her fingers into Gary's arm and waist.

"_Two_."

"I've called in my assault team, you know. Why don't you two sit down quietly? They'll be less likely shoot you, and I would rather have Mr. Bell alive. Allow me to introduce my—"

"_Three!_"

She threw both of them sideways behind the planter as a flash-bang exploded somewhere to their left. The impact knocked the wind out of her so she missed the first few actions. Pulling Gary up, she peeked over the edge of the planter. Nina had pulled off her blindfold and was ordering the boss to sleep. Cameron just finished pummeling the hell out of his guard while the other writhed on the floor, blood seeping from his shoulder.

Bill lowered his weapon and scanned the room for other enemies. Apparently satisfied, he tossed some zipties at Nina. She went to work on Management Guy.

"Are you two okay?" Bill asked as he helped Rachel and Gary to their feet.

"We're fine," Rachel answered in a daze, "But Nina's hurt and we need to get out of here now. That guy said more people were coming."

Bill was about to reply, but bright lights blinded everyone. A set of black SUVs had pulled up outside, their headlight shining through the rain-spotted windows. Rachel's heart rate shot through the roof. Men in black with very big guns rushed into the lobby. _They're already here_, she thought through an adrenaline-fueled haze.

She was pushing Gary back towards the planter when she saw Nathan Cley climb out and stride through the doors. Releasing Gary, she had never felt so happy to see Nathan Cley. He headed straight for Bill while his team finished securing the guards and Management Guy. She was pleased to see one of the tactical guys wrapping a pressure bandage on Nina's upper arm. Cameron hovered over her, making Rachel smile for the first time in what felt like days.

"Is your team okay, Harken?"

"Nina needs medical, but we're got more unfriendlies on the way. This is turning into an absolute clusterfuck and we should clear out."

"I'll send Franks and Sanchez to get the van. You all can come with us."

They were rushed out of the building and into the SUVs so quickly she barely felt the light rain left over from the thunderstorm. Rachel found herself crammed into a backseat next to Gary and speeding off before she could even process it. One SUV went another direction, taking Nina and Cameron to a hospital. After all the action, it was finally quiet. Bill and Nathan were debriefing quietly in the front seat, accompanied by windshield wipers and the rain on the car roof. _It was supposed to be a simple job_, she thought. _Hack a few computers and get out._

"You're shaking, Rachel. Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine. I'm—" She paused. What could she say that would make any kind of sense? "I'm just tired, Gary."

"I'm tired, too, but it's almost three AM so I don't think I'll be able to sleep. You should sleep though."

She smiled at him. It was difficult. "I don't think I could."

He hesitated. "You could use my shoulder for a pillow. Nina does that with Hicks, sometimes, on long car trips. It will take us a while to get back to the office." He flicked at the air. "Forty-five minutes, by their GPS."

She felt a light touch on the back of her hand. It was Gary, resting his hand against hers. Was it...intentional? His fingertips brushed against her skin once more before settling, implying that it was intentional. Maybe.

She stared at their barely-touching hands. Would it be so bad to accept the comfort? "That would be nice, Gary. Wake me when we get there?"

"I will. Don't worry; I'll keep watch." Gary's dedication amused Rachel. He had seen too many spy movies, but it was still reassuring in a strange way. Feeling a little more calmer, she settled her head on his shoulder. The softness of his hooded sweatshirt made a surprisingly nice pillow; under other circumstances she really could have fallen asleep like this. Tonight, though...tonight was a little too much and a little too close. She didn't close her eyes, though her vision blurred a little. Instead of sleeping, she listened to the rain and Gary's heartbeat the whole way home.

* * *

><p>AN: It would seem that I found a plot of a sort; I wasn't quite expecting that. I'd love to hear feedback on the action, such as it is. Thanks!<p> 


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